Poem Category: All

in the corn
I can’t say
who rides through

last train
a sleep broken
by the steel in the bridge

back home
once in a blue moon, the moon
on the verandah

country hotel
the bikies wearing
their colours in

Jerseys
their sashaying
I follow to the barn

mosquitoes
buzz ing ing ing
the fruit-bat echoes

the cattle-man stops
his sweat polished horse
flicking flies